


sleeping my way out (or: fixated on)

by Anonymous



Category: Dimension 20 (Web Series)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Humanoid Calroy, Humanoid Theo, M/M, Oral Sex, listen I'm not writing a Literal piece of cake and a giant bear okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:14:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27521365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: on amethar's wedding night, reminiscing leads to an unlikely connection between tentative allies
Relationships: Calroy Cruller/Theobald Gumbar
Comments: 1
Kudos: 11
Collections: Anonymous





	sleeping my way out (or: fixated on)

**Author's Note:**

> i was peer pressured into posting this but. well. i guess i hope Someone enjoys this? i....... okay i wrote it for a very specific reason and that is that the idea of caltheo proxy fucking hookup is SO funny to me but yeah im DEEPLY embarrassed thus *waves hands* anon feature. thanks ao3
> 
> anyway! warnings for calroy typical manipulation/lying (this isnt dubcon AT ALL but calroy just. he lies. its a character trait), proxy fucking In General (they are talking abt amethar CONSTANTLY in this so there's like, a voyerism aspect sort of? idk), and unsafe sex :brokenheart: sorry i didnt use fantasy condoms, i barely gave them fantasy lube
> 
> title from fob's seven minutes in heaven

Amethar is across the room, cheerfully drinking with friends from the Dairy Islands that he hasn’t seen since before Candia joined the War, but Calroy is here, at a table with Theobald Gumbar, who is not doing a very good job of hiding his melancholy. Calroy gets it, a bit; he isn’t excited about the wedding either, though his own reasons hinge on how weddings lead to heirs, which are just more roadblocks between him and the throne, which has, regardless of what Donetta tries to convince him, always been Calroy’s ultimate goal. Calroy wonders, as he watches Gumbar extract himself from the rowdy main party closer to the bar, if a bachelor’s party where the best men are grieving should be called by a different name. When he returns with a drink for each of them, Calroy taps his goblet against Gumbar’s before taking a deep gulp, the rum and coke burning all the way down.

“Thanks, I don’t think I could’ve braved that crowd myself,” Calroy says. Gumbar scowls, looking into his own drink.

“They’re all so.. Touchy. He’s getting _married_ tomorrow.”

“He’s getting married _tomorrow_ , let him have a little fun tonight,” Calroy counters. He doesn’t tell Gumbar that he has a secret hope, held deep in his chest, that Amethar might do something ridiculous enough tonight that Lady Meringue calls off the whole affair; a man can dream, though it’s incredibly unlikely and besides, “Amethar has never been selfish with his affections.”

Gumbar flinches like Calroy’s slapped him and Calroy thinks, _Oh, this could be fun_. He watches the knight’s face and takes another sip, notes how Gumbar grimaces ever so slightly every time he takes a sip -- not a much drinker, obviously -- how he holds his sword close and how his eyes keep darting towards Amethar’s bright, beaming face and his flock of old flames.

“Did you ever?” Calroy asks suddenly, and when Gumbar’s brow furrows, Calroy leans in conspiratorially, smirks, and enjoys the way Gumbar pales as he continues, “ _You know_. Did you and he ever hook up?”

Delightfully, Gumbar jolts like he’s been electrocuted. “I- What? Of _course_ not, why would you-”

“Shame,” Calroy says. His voice is still quiet, still steady, but it cuts through Gumbar’s panicking like a hot knife through chocolate. “He would’ve, if you’d asked. He’s always been like that: up for anything, accommodating, and _attentive_.”

“Attentive?” Gumbar asks, his voice a squeak and his eyes wide.

Calroy hums affirmatively. “ _Very_ attentive. It’s uncommon, for men of his size,” He says and watches as Gumbar tries to figure out if Calroy’s referring to Amethar’s physical stature or his other attributes. “But Amethar always does try to defy expectations. Between you and me? It’s almost a shame that he’s marrying Lady Meringue. _We_ both know, of course, that she has no interest in him beyond duty and, politically speaking, it’s a perfect match, but a man like that off the market when he has _so much_ to give and is _so_ incredibly good at giving it…”

Calroy sighs as bittersweetly as he can and watches as Theobald swallows thickly. He doesn’t let himself smirk, but he revels in the warmth of his amusement all the same.

Gumbar doesn’t stay for long after that, leaving the party even earlier than expected even for such a stick-in-the-molasses, and Calroy thinks that’s it; a bit of fun to distract from the increasingly hard to ignore void of unhappiness that appears whenever he thinks too much about Amethar’s wedding. He still has to watch his King, make sure he gets back to his room in one piece and without any hangers-on (he _is_ getting married tomorrow), and then make it through the whole spectacle of a wedding ceremony. Truly, he puts the interaction out of his mind until Gumbar comes up to him at the reception.

“Did you ever, ah, ‘hook up’ with him?” Gumbar asks, his voice so low and urgent that Calroy thinks something is wrong in the half a second it takes the words to process.

Calroy glances around to assure himself that they’re still very much in public and asks, “What?”

“Please, don’t make me repeat myself,” Gumbar pleads. There are bags under his eyes and his voice has an almost frantic edge to it. “Did you?”

“I- Yes. Obviously I did, Sir Theobald, I don’t understand why you’re-”

“Would you tell me about it? Please, I just need to,” Gumbar trails off and Calroy tilts his head in consideration. Fact: Theobald Gumbar wants to know what it’s like to sleep with Amethar. Fact: Theobald Gumbar looks awful, wretched, so so tired, right now, with his makeup from the ceremony sweated off and the desperation coming off him in waves. Speculation: Calroy did this.

It’s heady, the hypothetical that a well-timed sigh, a few words from _Calroy_ have reduced the Lord Commander of the Tartguard to _this_ , a needy shell of a man. Calroy wonders, vaguely, if he could bring him to begging.

Out loud, he says, “Of course, Sir Theobald, just… not here. It’s not exactly the right venue for that sort of story.”

Calroy slants an exaggerated look over his shoulder, where he can see Donetta giggling with a hand on the arm of a minor Fructeran noble lady. He doesn’t roll his eyes, of course not, but he wants to; and to think, she was concerned about _him_ looking less than devoted to their partnership of a marriage. Gumbar nods and gestures for Calroy to follow him, leading Calroy out of the main hall and through the castle. He brings Calroy to an out of the way room, one Calroy’s never been in before with a large painting of the Sugarlands and a comfortable looking couch and not much else, and Calroy finds himself interested in what a man who has lived in Castle Candy since adolescence could offer, what secrets he knows of this place that Calroy hasn’t been able to figure out yet.

“So?” Gumbar asks. Calroy laughs, all affected coyness.

“I’m not usually one to kiss and tell, Sir Theobald-”

“Please, call me Theo,” Gumbar -- Theobald? -- says, flustered, “Calling me my title when I’m asking for this, it feels wrong.”

“Alright, Theo, what do you want to know?”

There’s a moment where Theobald is silent, skittish, and Calroy is sure that he’s going to back out and ask Calroy to forget that this ever happened, and Calroy finds himself almost disappointed. He’s not sure what he wants from his interaction, what is drawing him in about the knight, but a total retreat would be unsatisfying, _boring_. Luckily, that moment passes and Theobald clears his throat and says, looking at a point over Calroy’s shoulder rather than at his eyes, “How was it? How was _he_?”

Calroy laughs, genuine amusement bleeding out as excitement, “Wonderful. I wasn’t exaggerating when I said it was unfortunate that he was locked down, as it is,” Calroy says. Theobald looks entrapped and Calroy leans in, presses his luck, “Do you know, Theo, what it’s like to have a prince on his knees?”

Theobald twitches, ever so slightly, letting Calroy know he’s hit something. He continues, “I wouldn’t tell anyone else this, but I think you’d understand; I mean, you knew Amethar before. You know that behind the formal public act, he’s soft and sweet and _excitable_ , right?”

“Right,” Theobald says, sounding faint. “The King has always been very easy to wind up.”

Calroy hums in affirmation, “Exactly, I knew you’d get it. And we only had a few encounters, you know how it is in the middle of a war, but he was always so eager to make sure that I had a good time.”

“He, uh, he,” Theobald clears his throat, swallows thickly, “He kissed you?”

Calroy can’t stop his laugh then, can’t even shape it’s incredulous and mocking sound, “Yes, Theo, he _kissed_ me.”

“I know I’m not- knowledgeable about any of this,” Theobald says, flushing, “But you don’t have to make fun of me.”

“I’m sorry,” Calroy says, and he truly tries to sound like he means it, “I didn’t realize that you didn’t have…”

“Experience?” Theobald finishes. Theobald frowns at his feet and Calroy considers this. After a moment, he slides off the couch and onto his knees, laying a hand on Theobald’s knee even as Theobald jerks in surprise. “What are you doing?”

“You don’t have experience, right? Even if I told you, you wouldn’t really understand what it meant, what it felt like,” Calroy says. Theobald doesn’t meet his eyes or raised brows so Calroy finds it safe to roll his eyes as he continues, “I can help you know what it felt like, Theo.”

“That’d be okay, I suppose.”

“I don’t take half-answers,” Calroy snaps and Theobald squares his jaw and nods decisively despite the bright blush painting his face.

“Yes, I want you to- Yes, please.”

“Good boy,” Calroy says, more reflexive than anything else, but he still notes how Theobald shivers at the praise. Still, he has more interesting things to explore than the Lord Commander’s possible praise kink. “There was one time,” He says, making a show of thinking as he unlaces Theobald’s breeches, “That Amethar pressed me against a tree and sucked me off.”

Theobald takes in a sharp breath, though whether it’s at the thought of Amethar or at Calroy’s fingers on his half-hard cock is anyone’s guess. “He did?”

Calroy hums affirmatively, licking a stripe down his hand before returning it to Theobald, giving him a few good strokes as he continues, “I told you he was attentive, right? He always made sure I came before him, multiple times if I thought I was up to it, so he’d always start with a blowjob. The Prince of Candia, on his knees for me the way I’m on my knees for you,” He says. He can see Theobald’s eyes dilate and unfocus, hopes that the knight is imagining it now, picturing Amethar in Calroy’s place.

“He liked to go so slowly, it would drive me crazy,” Calroy says. He presses feather-light kisses down Theobald’s shaft, pressing a hand against Theobald’s hips to hold them in place when they buck reflexively; he bends lower and presses open-mouthed kisses to Theobald’s balls, remembering Amethar doing the same to him. His next words are little more than vibrations against Theobald’s skin, probably too quiet for him to even hear, “So impulsive and quick everywhere else but he’d take his time on me.”

Theobald is smaller than Amethar which means that it’s barely a difficulty for Calroy to take him down to the base, to swallow around the intrusion as Theobald moans above him. Calroy doesn’t need to say that Amethar would do this, over and over, his head bobbing as he hummed folk songs and sent the most wonderful sensations over Calroy’s dick, no, he’s sure his demonstration is more than enough.

Calroy works to see what kind of noises he can wring out of Theobald as he takes him into his throat, as he licks beads of precum from the glistening head of his cock, as he shapes his tongue around Theobald’s shaft, but he doesn’t want Theobald coming before the main event so he pulls off and says, “He would suck me off until I begged him for more, you know. He liked that, being asked for things.”

It takes a pointed glance at Theobald’s half-shut eyes but the knight shakes his head as if clearing it and gets the hint, “Please, can I- Can you-”

“He would fuck me,” Calroy says bluntly, and Theobald chokes on his words even as his cock twitches in interest. “I don’t have any supplies here but-”

“I do,” Theobald offers, awkward and quick, and reaches down to pull a small bottle of lubricant out of his pocket.

Calroy’s brows raise in alarm, off-balance by the readiness. “Were you trying to seduce me, Theobald?”

Theobald shakes his head, “No, someone gave it to me as a joke. A taunt. ‘Something to help get the stick out of your ass.’”

“Ah, how… inspired,” Calroy settles on, distaste dripping from every word. Theobald barks a laugh and tosses Calroy the lubricant. Calroy considers it and then says, “You know, Amethar would prepare me.”

“I don’t know how.”

“I know,” Calroy says, not unkindly, “That’s what I’m here for.”

Walking Theobald through warming the lube and readying his fingers as Calroy undresses is- Well. Calroy has had more clinical sex, definitely, and once they get into the act, once Calroy’s on his back on the carpet and Theobald has two of his large, sword-calloused fingers up his ass, Calroy finds that Theobald responds very well to directions.

“Move out a little bit,” Calroy instructs, “Closer to the entrance, a little more to the left maybe- Oh! You, ah, you found it.”

“Found what?” Theobald asks as Calroy pants wetly, pressing again into that marvelous little spot and sending shudders through Calroy’s body.

“My prostate,” Calroy says as soon as he can speak again. Theobald blinks in shock and Calroy impatiently gestures for him to hurry up. “I’m ready enough, slick yourself up for me, Sir Theobald.”

“ _Please_ don’t call me that right now,” Theobald says even as he rubs a healthy handful of lubricant on his dick. Calroy has to resist the urge to snort; does Theobald really think he didn’t notice the way he perked up when his battle won title was used? Still, if the man requests,

“I apologize, Theo, won’t happen again,” Calroy says, “Now, fuck me.”

Theobald’s entry is slow, as though he’s afraid that he’s going to break Calroy or come immediately. The latter is a real threat, but it just makes Calroy want to make sure he gets his time’s worth here, which, no matter how good the stretch of his cock feels, Calroy won’t get if Theobald doesn’t fuck him like he means it.

Once Theobald is buried to the hilt, Calroy starts talking, his voice purposefully casual, “You should’ve seen Amethar during the war. He was a powerhouse.”

Theobald’s breath hitches. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Calroy confirms, rolling his hips to get the right angle. “He could go for _hours_ , so hard that I wanted to cry.”

Theobald’s hips jerk at that and Calroy moans, purposefully dramatic, performatively pleased. “ _Yes_ , just like that. Fast and deep, can you do that for me, Theo?”

Theobald makes a choked sound of confirmation and then begins to move, still too slow for Calroy’s tastes but closer, better. Theobald is better at aiming than Calroy might’ve expected, he seems to remember the general location of Calroy’s prostate and tries to hit around the spot with each thrust. Sometimes it’s simply an awkward miss, but sometimes-

“ _Fuck_ , right there,” Calroy gasps, clenching. Theobald doubles over, face close to Calroy’s as he stops moving and breathes deeply.

“Give me a moment,” He says, eyes closed tight and voice strained, “You’re so _tight_.”

Calroy grins smugly while Theobald can’t see it. “Flattery will get you _everywhere_.”

“Not sure where else there is to go besides here,” Theobald mutters, teasing. Calroy laughs despite himself.

“My dear knight, I promise I can teach you more than just ‘first time missionary,’” Calroy says. He doesn’t realize the implication, of more, of continued hookups and sneaking away from events and _lessons_ , until Theobald twitches inside him in interest. Theobald doesn’t reply aloud but when he opens his eyes, he looks down at Calroy with a sort of starry excitement that makes him look more his age than he has in the entire time Calroy has known him.

“Well, uh, for this time,” Theobald says after a few more moments of composing himself, “Got any more tips?”

“Amethar fucked me harder,” Calroy says immediately. “I wasn’t joking when I said he’d make me cry, I promise you won’t snap me in half, Theo.”

Theobald flushes cherry garcia pink but experimentally draws his hips back, almost all the way out, before slamming back into Calroy with a slap of skin against skin; it’s exactly right and Calroy’s head snaps back as he happily groans.

“ _Exactly_ like that, that’s how he fucked me. Do it again.”

Theobald does, again and again until Calroy is shaking with pleasure, bitten off gasps and groans filling the air around them.

“You’ve got it, you’re so good,” Calroy says, words hoarse as Theobald pounds into him again and again. He looks at Theobald, looks in the knight’s eyes and sees the spark of happiness at the approval. Calroy doesn’t think he’s ever slept with someone so happy to be compared to someone else, and then he thinks, _Well, that’s a concept_. The next time Theobald thrusts into him, the next time he hits exactly the right spot in Calroy and makes his toes curl in pleasure, Calroy opens his mouth wide and moans, “ _Amethar_.”

In retrospect, Calroy thinks he should’ve expected that that would be the thing to wring Theobald’s orgasm from him like liquid from a towel.

Theobald fucks Calroy through it, hips jerking uncontrollably even as he spurts his seed and his dick softens, and Calroy is able to use that and a few quick strokes to bring about his own completion. Afterward, when Theobald has pulled out and they’re enjoying the sticky, warm relaxation of a well-done lay, Theobald sits up and takes a deep, fortifying breath.

“We shouldn’t-”

“Unless you’re going to say ‘do that again without a bed, because we’re both civilized people with rooms in this castle,’ I don’t want to hear it right now.”

Theobald splutters. “But we just got off to the _King_ ,” He hisses, and Calroy resists the urge to correct ‘ _You_ got off to the King, _I_ got off to being fucked.’ Instead, he lifts his head with great effort and fixes Theobald with an annoyed look.

“Plenty of people have gotten off to worse things. I won’t tell anyone if you don’t.”

“Of course I wouldn’t.”

“Good,” Calroy says, “Then get back over here, you’re ruining my afterglow.”

Theobald lays back down beside Calroy on the carpet that they’ve absolutely ruined and, for once, Calroy feels entirely satisfied.


End file.
